


An Everlasting Funeral

by goth_on_ham



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Angst, First Time, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Unrequited Love, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-26
Updated: 2018-02-26
Packaged: 2019-03-24 10:35:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13809393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goth_on_ham/pseuds/goth_on_ham
Summary: "I may think of you softly from time to time. But I'll cut off my hand before I ever reach for you again." - The CrucibleJim struggles to come to terms with his feelings for Oswald.





	An Everlasting Funeral

**Author's Note:**

> It has been ages, but here I am. I posted the same basic notice on my Tumblr, but for those of you who do not use it:  
> I have been very busy recently but I am greatly appreciative of all your feedback and kudos during my absence. My first priority now is to update my ongoing fic when I can, but before that I intend to write a few one shots to help me gets used to writing Gotham stuff again.
> 
> (The title of this is also from The Crucible. I thought the line "An everlasting funeral marches round in her heart" was quite appropriate for Jim.)

Jim didn’t know what he was doing. He should have been pushing Oswald away, not drawing him in closer. Yet… That was all he wanted to do. 

Draw him in closer.

“Damn it.” He grumbled. It was a superficial protest. Every fibre of his being was _ aching  _ for Oswald.

He wanted to believe that he didn’t know what he was doing, but that was inaccurate. He knew exactly what he was doing. 

That was the problem.

He couldn’t blame this on alcohol, exhaustion, or some other mind bending influence. It was all him.

He wanted Oswald. That scared him.

“Jim. Please.” The smaller man seemed to have less issue vocalising his desires. Although the flush over his usually pale face told Jim that he still felt some shame in them. Or maybe… A nervousness that they wouldn’t be reciprocated.

“Fuck.” He swore, and then he did that word. He told himself that any consequences for this would be dealt with as they came. 

Jim was unpracticed at making love to another man, but it came to him with uncomfortable ease. In a way, he would have felt better if it had been foreign, unworkable. Then he could pass off Oswald as an anomaly and therefore, not really indicative of anything more than a passing curiosity. 

In his heart, he knew that passing curiosities did not last nearly so long as his interest in Oswald had. He chose to ignore that fact.

He supported Oswald’s bad leg with his back, and a second later Oswald linked it with his good one, clinging to Jim like he was afraid the other man would change his mind halfway through and just  _ leave. _

The mattress creaked beneath them, Oswald moaned, squeaked, gasped… Jim grunted. 

It was no coincidence that was the most masculine sounding noise he could manage in this situation.

He felt the compulsion to do more, to say more, but he bit his lip and kept himself quiet. 

“Turn over.” He ordered, when his breath was heavy and he could feel the closeness knotting in the base of his stomach and his groin with near unbearable urgency.

Oswald hesitated, a confused look on his face, and Jim did not have the patience to explain it to him. He grabbed his shoulder and flipped him onto his stomach with a growl. Then, he entered him from behind. 

He could go faster like this, rougher. He could try to forget how good Oswald looked on his back and how much he liked seeing his face pink and slack and on the cusp of crying out.

He could look straight ahead and ignore how good Oswald looked on all fours too. 

“Jim- Jim- I- Ah!” Oswald was struggling to say something, but Jim wasn’t hearing it. He didn’t want to. 

It was nearly over anyway.

\--

The next time they met, neither of them mentioned it. 

However, the deed hung in the air so thickly that the wind seemed to scream it at them both.

Jim could barely breathe. 

“Oswald.” He said, voice clipped with curt, forced politeness.

“Jim.” 

His face was all sharp angles and his complexion, which had the tendency to go slightly uneven, was smooth and clean. Perhaps he was taking better care of himself. 

Or perhaps he had made himself up to look his best for this meeting.

“I’ve told you before, no more deals.” 

“Yes, Captain Gordon, I know.” He smiled, saying his name more flirtatiously that Jim was comfortable with hearing. “But when you hear what I have to offer-”

“Not interested.”

He could have told him that over the phone. Or through someone else. 

Oswald’s lip curled slightly, his eyes shone bright. 

“Are you sure?”

Jim’s jaw ached. He realised that he had been grinding his teeth. 

“Yes.” He replied, almost a snarl. 

Oswald’s eyes went brighter. 

Whatever ‘deal’ he had come to discuss, they both knew that the meeting wasn’t about that.

Oswald wanted more from him than one night, and Jim wanted less than that. 

If he could take it back, he would. 

Not that he hadn’t enjoyed it, that wasn’t the point. He had standards to uphold. 

What he wanted, or who he wanted, had nothing to do with it.

\--

Jim thought of Oswald constantly after that. 

Memories of their night together played in his mind, surfacing most prominently in the most inconvenient times. 

When he was alone, it was less of a problem. However, he still loathed how often the thought of Oswald caused him to touch himself when he lay by himself in bed at night. 

How often did he think of Barbara like that any more? Not at all. 

Lee? Hardly ever.

But Oswald...

Oswald wouldn’t leave him.

He wondered if Oswald thought of him like that too. He didn’t think it was just ego that made him believe it was likely. 

\--

The second time they met, Oswald wasn’t expecting him. 

He called by his club, with questions, but more importantly, with lust. He couldn’t stand it any more. Days had went by, turned into weeks, and masturbation and memories could no longer satisfy him.

He needed the real thing.

He marched into the Iceberg Lounge, a man on a mission, heart pounding in his chest-

Then stopped. 

“Jim?” 

It was just a caress. A simple touch along the thigh. 

But it told Jim everything he needed to know. 

“Oswald.” He replied, with the same clipped curtness that he had used before. He nodded to the man beside him. “Victor.”

The assassin smiled at him with a little mischief, and Jim felt his hands automatically close into fists.

“Hi, Jim.”

Oswald looked between the two of them, and then he stood up from where he was sat and straightened out his jacket. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this  _ unexpected  _ visit?”

There was disapproval in his words, but also a certain hopefulness. A challenge.

It confused Jim. 

Did Victor not mean anything to him? Or was Oswald trying to show off to his new boyfriend? 

He wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

“Forget it.” He said, locking eyes with Oswald and watching with satisfaction as they flitted nervously, guiltily to the side. “I won’t bother you again.”

\--

Jim was the type of man who needed something. 

A purpose.

But beyond that, he needed  _ someone. _

That someone could never be Oswald, it simply couldn’t. 

He didn’t even think he wanted it to be. 

But the thought of Oswald being someone else’s… That ate at him.

He was mourning a relationship that had never really happened. He was jealous over losing someone that had never been his, someone that he hadn’t let be his.

He was trapped in a funeral that he could never leave. He couldn’t leave, because there was no getting over something that had no defined beginning, middle, or end. 

He told himself that there would be others. Someone nice, dependable, someone  _ good. _

He still wanted to be a father, to have a family.

It wasn’t like Oswald could give him that.

He cracked open another bottle. He turned up the volume on his television. 

He tried to pretend he wouldn’t make the same mistake again. He tried to pretend that he would never reach for Oswald again.

He didn’t believe it, but he told himself he would with time.


End file.
